Lifeless
by AkissCANconsume
Summary: Renesmee Cullen and Evelyn Ozette weren’t always like this but, when two tragic things happened to them. They changed for the worse. Now, their family and friends are trying to help them become what they used to be.


**I do not own the Twilight Saga.**

**A/N- Ugh. I couldn't sleep so, I wrote this. I might continue it if people want me too . . . I don't know.**

**Summary: Renesmee Cullen and Evelyn Ozette weren't always like this but, when two tragic things happened to them. They changed for the worse. Now, their family and friends are trying to help them become what they used to be.**

**Preface:**

**Name: Renesmee Carlie Cullen**

**Age: 17**

I wasn't always like this.

I wasn't always reckless.

I used to hate motorcycles and cliff diving.

I used to be the _perfect_ daughter and when I say _perfect_ I mean _unbelievably_ perfect. My parents were my _best_ friends.

I used to be popular in high school. When I say popular I mean _everybody_ wanted to talk to me.

I used to love to write. I used to have my own dark blue velvet diary where I kept all my secrets and thoughts in. The diary was tightly kept away with a golden locket.

I used to love to read and listen to music. I used to have endless amounts of books and CD's. I used to have my iPod with me at _all_ times.

I used to play the piano. I would spend numerous of hours practicing on my father's grand piano. In my spear time, I would read. I loved to read, it was my favorite thing to do.

I used to love fashion; shopping in general. My Aunts were basically my sisters and my Uncles were basically my brothers . . .

I pushed everyone and everything I loved away from me all because I was remorsefully raped by my ex. boyfriend and the _love_ of my _life_ left me.

I am the _only_ one who knows this. My family and friends _will_ find out about the second _thing_ soon . . . _very_ soon.

**Chapter 1**

**Part 1**

**Renesmee Cullen.**

"**He left, and he took all I had left in me with him. I **_**can't**_** feel anything . . ."**

I swiftly walked into my bedroom. Droplets of water left . . . _left_ . . . a trail of water to where I am now.

I stopped, abruptly. My ratty old converses made an annoying squeaky wet noise.

I looked behind me. My converses left . . . _left_ . . . mud footprints on the hardwood flooring.

I looked down to where my feet were. My _black_ converses were covered in mud. The mud left . . . _left_ . . . no _black_ to be seen just _brown_.

I turned my head back to my bedroom. My curly hair was now wavy and clinging to my face. I took my hands and pushed my drenched hair behind my shoulders.

I started walking. I felt as if I had to _hurry_. As if _something_ had to be _done_.

My eyes hastily searched around my bedroom.

My eyes landed on a picture. It was a picture that was pinned against my sky blue walls.

It was a picture of Jake –him and I . . . He was widely smiling. His big arm was around my tiny shoulders as he pulled me closer –

My hands clenched into tight fists. My teeth bit my lip so I wouldn't scream.

He's a liar just like _IT_. He's a _liar_. I _trusted_ him. I _trusted_ him with my heart and he broke it in half and _stepped_ on it.

I looked down at my wrist that held the bracelet he gave to me. Without thinking, I ripped it off with my hand and uncaringly through it into the trashcan. The charms of the bracelet bounced onto the ground as the rest of the bracelet fell into the trashcan.

I glanced down at my necklace he gave to me on my seventh birthday, (Forever 17 years old) and I repeated the same thing.

I ran inhumanly fast to the wall that held pictures of him and I.

I grabbed onto them. I harshly pulled all thirty five pictures off the wall. I grabbed hold of ten and _ripped_ them straight through the middle _just_ _like_ he did to my heart.

I through the pieces onto the floor; I didn't care about the mess. I'll clean it up later . . .

I grabbed onto another ten pictures as I heard someone approach my bedroom.

"Renesmee, What are you doing?"

I ignored my mother as she tried to communicate with me. I didn't even acknowledge that she grabbed onto the ten pictures I had in my hands, ready to rip.

I just reached for the next ten pictures on my bed. My mother grabbed onto my hands.

"Renesmee, stop it! Stop it right now!"

I ignored her. Fine_, if she doesn't want _me_ to do _that_ . . . _then_ I'll _do this_ . . ._

I forcefully pulled my hands away. Then I walked over to my nightstand and grabbed onto the dark blue picture frame that held or used to hold my favorite picture.

It was a picture of him and me dancing at homecoming. I used to love to dance. I smirked.

I grabbed onto the picture and was ready to throw it when –

"Renesmee, don't you _dare_ through that! Renesmee, stop this _nonsense_!"

–And with that, I through it hard and with all my might . . .

It hit the wall and broke into many shattering pieces of glass _just like_ my heart.

The picture floated towards the floor. It landed, softly; faced up so I could clearly see what we used to be.

I walked toward the picture.

"Renesmee, why are you acting like this? Renesmee, what happened? Weren't you supposed to be with Jake still? Renesmee, please answer me!"

I firmly picked the picture up and ripped it . . . I then turned it and ripped it again . . .

"Renesmee, stop," my father demanded. My father was here now? Some how and without me knowing he was next to me with his hands onto top of mine. His voice seemed sad and angry at the same time . . .

I dropped the pictures onto the floor.

Then, my father gently pulled me into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Renesmee . . ."

My father softly whispered against my head.

My father knew what happened. He heard my thoughts.

I closed my eyes as I started to let the tears out. The tears I had no idea I was holding in.

I gripped onto my father's shirt and I cried and cried as my father stood there in the middle of my bedroom embracing me.

"He's gone . . ." I emotionlessly and unthinkingly said.

Somewhere, I heard my mother gasp and whisper a sorrowful, "No . . . not this, anything but this . . ."

**Preface:**

**Name: Evelyn Emi Ozette (Waters)**

**Age: 16**

I wasn't always like this.

I wasn't always alone.

I had people who loved me and took care of me.

Believe it or not . . . I used to be happy and when I say happy I mean _all_ the time.

I used to smile! Yes, smile; smile, like no one before. I used to smile _all _the time!

I used to skip to everywhere I went, yes, _skip_ not _walk_ like a normal being . . . I _mean_ skip like a happy person I used to be.

I used to love to make people laugh, smile and talk like a mad person.

I used to give things to people for no reason! I would spend countless of hours drawing a person, animal . . . and then the next day I would just randomly give it to someone.

Some called me odd. Some called me the best person they have ever met. Some even called me an angel sent from above.

Now, I'm just known has Evelyn Ozette the girl who had lost her parents in a tragic accident and was brutally raped by her boyfriend.

**Chapter 1**

**Part 2**

"**If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all . . ."**

"…" –**Evelyn Ozette (Waters)**

Today, the ninth of September, I am saying goodbye to New York City and Hello to La-push, Washington.

I wasn't going to miss New York City, my hometown. It held too many terrible memories. I wanted to leave it the day; Alex raped me because I didn't want to have sex. So, he gave it to me anyway, unwillingly.

Screw _him_.

I know I'm shocked too! I haven't screamed or burst out crying or have a panic attack once when I was talking about Alex.

That therapy stuff really works.

Well, not really. I'm just too scared of the people on here to start panicking and freaking out or ask me what's wrong. I got enough of that at home or well, the place or well, I mean the orphanage place… or at home where my or used to be . . . yeah . . .

I talk way too much or in my head I do . . .

Well . . . I guess I should tell you . . . I've been in orphanage care for a month even though since I was born I was in one. Then at the age of one . . . a married couple . . . my old family . . . I mean . . . adopted me . . .

Therapy for two months so, they are finally letting me go with yet again another adopted parents.

Yay, me! Not.

I didn't want to go, first of all.

I would rather stay in the small cooped up house, place, whatever for the rest of my life or well, until I turn the illegal age of eighteen years old and leave the Hell hole.

But, I can't because I'm only sixteen years old.

I can't believe that couple was dumb of enough to adopt me . . .

I do believe they know the truth about me; what I've been through and how crappy of a daughter I am.

I don't do anything except sit there silently and not listen to a damn thing they have to say.

So, why, why did those people have to pick me? Why couldn't they just leave me be . . .

And, what were their names? Ugh. I forget . . .

I signed once again on the plane to La-Push, Washington.

**A/N- Review Please, thank you!**


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